We Are Not Alone
by AndromedaAI
Summary: Chaos. Confusion. She didn't expect to run into that when she moved down to Tranquility. But those were the emotions running through her when her father disappears overseas and her truck turns out to be an alien robot scientist who blows up stuff. She also didn't expect to be thrown into an ancient war, either. But fate rarely calls upon us at a moment of our choosing. Jazz/OC
1. It's Not Safe Anymore

**Yep, I've been toying with this idea for a while. And I know the looks you're giving me. Like: 'Really, AndromedaAI? Really?' I know I have several stories running right now, but I've hit writers block. Just give me some time to think about what should happen next…**

**I have thought about the plot in this story. Each chapter will be around 4000 words, like this chapter is. Updates won't be too frequent, just because. Note: this story will be covering the first, second, and third movies. Yeah, yeah, **_**how original**_**. Not to worry, though, it won't be boring *gives encouraging smile* There's a sub plot to this :D**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. I also don't own the main sub-plot—**_**that**_** sadly belongs to Michael Bay. I do own Ashley Knight and her father.**

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**We Are Not Alone**

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1 – **It's Not Safe Anymore** – 1

I held the phone up to my ear and looked up at the stars from where I stood in my grandmother's backyard. As I listened to the phone ring, I thought about the week I had spent here so far. I was going to a public high school, but I hadn't made any friends yet. There was a family genealogy report that was due tomorrow, and thankfully, I had been able to finish it. It was about my great-great grandfather, Jonathan Knight, who was one of the men who dared to go into the Arctic shelf with Captain Archibald Witwicky. He helped haul Captain Witwicky out of the ice hole he had fallen into, and when he returned to England, he became a famous scientist.

The phone was answered, and a familiar baritone voice asked, "Hello?"

"Daddy? How are you?" I said.

"Ashley!" my father exclaimed happily. "Have you settled down comfortably in Tranquility? How's Grandma?"

I couldn't help the smile that crept onto my face. I missed my Dad so much. "I'm as comfortable as I'll ever be down here in Nevada, Dad. Grandma's doing great—she appreciates having me living with her. How's life in Qatar?" I hadn't been happy when the company my father worked for, Sun-E Energy, told Dad that he was needed to work at the brand new oilrig that had been set up, ironically, next to Qatar's SOCCENT base. They had told my father that it was one of the safest places a rig could be, but I didn't believe them. I had a bad feeling that something was going to happen to my dad.

"Just landed with a whole bunch of Army Rangers. I'll have to stay on the base until tomorrow because they want to make sure I'm not some kind of threat. Then I'll have to work under the scorching heat of the Middle Eastern sun," he said.

"At least you'll know what you're doing. Sun-E Energy trusts you to get your work done, because they _know_ you can. I just don't want any Al Qaeda's sneaking onto the rig to blow it up," she said.

There was a hearty laugh. "My sweet, I don't think any of the soldiers here would allow that to happen. There's so much security here, an ant would be picked up on their scanners. I'm as safe as a mouse in its burrow."

I rolled my eyes. "If you say so, Dad," I said flatly. After a few seconds of silence, I said, "Hey, after my genealogy report tomorrow, me and Grandma are going to go and look at cars. I'm going to look for a fixer-upper, something I can customise. And when you get back, you can help me make it tickity-boo, right?"

"Sounds like fun, Ashley. But I have to go now; security is giving me The Look. I love you."

I smiled sadly and a tear came to my eye. "I love you too, Daddy."

I expected to him say something more, but there was a sharp bout of static, and then a click, like someone had forcefully jammed the connection before ending the call. I lowered the phone and looked down at the screen before I pressed the on/off button. I shoved my phone into my pocket before I turned and walked into the house. After I kicked my sneakers off by the back door, I walked into the kitchen and sat down at the kitchen table. Grandma walked into the kitchen and saw me sitting there, looking disappointed.

"How…did it go?" she asked.

I drew in a deep breath. "Fine," I sighed. "Securities tight, though. I couldn't even talk to him for five minutes. Makes me wonder when I'll be able to speak to him again…"

"They'll let him speak to his family, I'm sure of it," Grandma said as she drifted over to the counter and, after picking up the kettle, before she filled it with water and set it down on the stove. She turned on the element it was resting on before she pulled out the tin of powdered hot chocolate. "Do you want some hot chocolate, dear?"

I thought about it for a second before I realized that I was in a desperate need of something sugary…and Grandma always made good hot chocolate. "Sure."

XXX

After he had been "interrogated" by security, and after he had something to eat, Kris Knight was assigned to share a tent with the Captain of the Army Rangers he had to fly with in order to reach the base. His name was William Lennox, Will for short when he wasn't on duty. The tent had housed both Lennox and Tech Sargent Epps before he had come along, and it still did. Kris was only going to occupy it with them for one night before he would be sleeping in the barracks offered for the overseas oilrig workers.

Kris had quickly found out that Lennox and Epps were easy to get along with. Lennox had a clean sense of humor, but Epps' was a little strange and hard to decipher. They didn't look down on anyone, but respected those around them that had different ranks. I guess it came with being in the military, because as sure as heck Frackers didn't treat each other the same way. He was comfortable around the two. He would kinda miss them when he had to go to the oilrig.

He was looking at the pictures of his family when he heard Lennox run into the tent. It had been an hour after he had been settled, and homesickness was beginning to grow in the pit of his stomach. He tuned out the brown haired man behind him as Lennox let out a happy laugh followed by, "My ladies!" Kris knew he was referring to his wife, Sarah, and his newborn daughter, Annabelle. Lennox had told him all about them over dinner once he realized that they were both fathers.

Kris ran a hand through his greying black hair as his blue and brown heterochromatic eyes took in the sight of the picture in his hand. It was a picture of his wife and his daughter. They were both smiling into the camera. He was glad they were both safe. His wife was visiting relatives in Ontario for the summer, fall, and winter while his daughter stayed down in Tranquility, Nevada in order give her grandmother some company.

He missed them though. It felt like his heart was being ripped apart. He had never left the continent of North America without either his wife or daughter. This was his first time. He had wanted to hear their voices when he first landed, but all he got to hear was five minutes of his daughter's voice and what she was going to do the next day. He allowed himself to sigh before sharp crackling from the screen Lennox was using to talk to his family drew his attention towards where the Captain was standing. He watched as the image on the screen froze a couple of times as the woman on the screen asked, "Wi-i-ll?" before the image pixelated slightly.

Lennox grabbed the sides of the screen. "Hey, Sarah. If you can hear me, I love you and I'll be home soon," he said quickly before the connection cut out and the screen went dark. Lennox groaned before he hung his head. He then looked away with a look of disappointment and unhappiness on his face.

"Wonder what could have been the cause of that…" Kris mused quietly, his New Zealand accent weighing heavy on his words as he noticed the sound of helicopter blades.

Curious, he got up from where he had been sitting on his temporary cot and walked to the open "doorway" of the tent. Night was falling, but because of the floodlights stationed in several places around the main "courtyard", he was able to see the large military-grade helicopter land. He watched with mild interest as several soldiers decked out in gear and uniform formed a circle around the helicopter and pointed their weapons at it. Lennox came up and stood beside him as he listened to the different shouts coming from the soldiers.

Will and Kris watched as the helicopter sat still for about two minutes, without moving. But then something unexpected happened, which threw the two men, both soldier and oilrig supervisor, off-guard. The column that the rotor-blades were attached to suddenly rose up about a foot. Then the blades rotated forward slightly before rotating backwards until they met. They stayed like that for about five seconds before the helicopter exploded into several different pieces.

The soldiers cried out and began to fire on the…the…helicopter and it transformed into a humanoid figure. Kris wasn't sure _what_ the thing was, but by the way it stared down at the soldiers with those…red eyes…and how it prepped its weapons…he knew it was evil.

Kris sucked in a shocked gasp as the robot started to fire at the soldiers. Jeeps exploded, soldiers screamed. Kris couldn't help but take a step back in fear when a visible, blue, shockwave—something he thought would never leave _Star Trek_—erupted from the robot and destroyed everything (including humans) in its wake. The windows of the control tower were even affected by it as they shattered.

Lennox roughly grabbed Kris' arm before he dashed out into the chaos. Kris had no idea what was on the Captain's mind, and he guessed that the man was confused when they suddenly came to a stop. Soldiers were running all over the place, trying to get their stuff and trying to get out of the robot's path. Over the noise of the robot and the shouts, he heard Epps shouting at the top of his lungs as he ran towards him. He didn't understand what he was saying, but one phrase stuck out like a red light in the dark: "WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!"

That was obvious, though. They had seen the robot fire.

The robot continued to shoot at buildings, and cars, and out of the corner of his eye, Kris watched as the robot shot at a C-17. In a ripple of blue light, it exploded. Soldiers tried to dodge the rolling corpses of military vehicles, but some couldn't. It was total carnage.

Lennox started to run, and Kris had no choice but to follow as Lennox's team ran to keep up with them. Kris' heart was beating a hundred miles a minute as he worked hard to stay right behind Lennox. It was beating from both fear and exertion as he realized that he really wasn't dressed to sprint away from a giant robot. Loafers were not running shoes he noted as a wave of blue light shot past in front of them.

Lennox was suddenly handed two bullet-proof vests on the run. He strapped his on before he tossed the spare one to Kris. Kris quickly managed to figure out how to put it on, and was thankful for the fact that he had some sort of protection. He wanted to return to his family.

A kid suddenly ran up to them, with a look of terror on his face. Lennox looked at him and grabbed the boy's hand as they ran. Kris realized that the kid would never be able to keep up with them and might catch the tail-end of an attack by accident, so he scooped the kid up into his arms and continued to run. Lennox glanced at him and gave him a grateful look before they dashed out into a clearing.

Out of nowhere, tanks rained down from the sky. Lennox's team managed to dodge the tanks, but some soldiers weren't so lucky. Before his eyes, Kris watched as four men were crushed under a tank as it crashed to the ground. Thankfully, the boy had looked away just in time.

They continued to run, though, and slid to a stop in front of a long row of tanks that had been parked there. Quickly, they turned around and faced the chaos. Kris was horrified at the devastation the robot was causing. But then he spotted Epps.

The African-American man was running full-speed in order to reach them. The robot came out of nowhere and nearly stepped on Epps as he reached the center of the clearing. Epps screamed as fell to the ground in order to avoid the robot's massive feet. "Whoa!" Kris heard him holler. "Oh!" Epps lifted up some sort of binoculars to his eyes and seemed to stare at the robot for several minutes before something popped out of the robot's chest—a gun-like thing—and pointed it at Epps. Epps got to his feet and ran the rest of the way towards Lennox and his team. The man Kris recognised as Fig, from when he was on the Osprey, pointed some kind of gun at the robot and fired.

The bullet hit the robot in the chest, and the robot twisted away slightly with a string of deep mechanical noises as Epps joined them. The robot looked at them, and fired, but missed them as they ducked between two of the tanks and ran for their lives.

At that moment, Kris' mind blanked. He held the boy close and he thought about his family as his position went from oilrig supervisor to soldier.

XXX

Today was the day I was to give my family genealogy report. I knew I was going to do a good job, since I loved history and that I was okay with talking about something in front of a class. I had been in 4-H and had won second place in the senior level during Public Speaking. I just had to keep the side of me that got stage-frightened buried.

I rose from my bed and had a shower. After I had dried myself off, I dressed myself in a pair of jeans, a light blue t-shirt, and some socks. I decided to wear my Italian charm bracelet with my medic-alert bracelet on my right wrist. After I got a good look at myself in the mirror, I left the bathroom and packed my backpack before I went downstairs. I then walked into the kitchen, took out a box of chocolate cheerios, and made myself breakfast. I sat down at the kitchen table with a bowl of cereal and a glass of Sunny-D orange juice in time for Grandma to walk into the kitchen.

"Good morning, Ashley," Grandma said cheerfully.

"Good morning," I returned between bites. I was quickly, but carefully shoving my breakfast down so that I wouldn't miss the bus. I wouldn't have to worry about the bus once I got my car, though. I smiled slightly at the thought before I finished my breakfast and took the dishes to the counter. After I had rinsed them out, I put them in the dishwasher. I then kissed my Grandmother on the cheek and said goodbye as I picked up my backpack. Slinging it onto my back, I quickly walked outside, out onto the sidewalk, and then down to the bus stop. As soon as I reached the bus stop, the bus pulled up and came to a stop.

The door opened, and I went to step into the bus, but I stopped when I noticed someone frantically running up the sidewalk in order to catch the bus. I looked up at the bus driver. "Can you please wait a minute?" I asked. At his nod, I smiled before I watched the person, a teenaged boy around my age, come to a stop beside me. I quickly looked over him and noticed he was wearing a navy-blue shirt, jeans, and had brown hair.

"Thanks," the boy said breathlessly.

I grinned. "You're welcome," I told him before I stepped into the bus.

Quickly, I walked to a seat in the back and sat down. As I took off my backpack and set it down on the floor by my pink converse clad feet, I watched the boy make his way to the back of the bus and sit down next to a shaggy-haired boy on a seat across the small aisle from me. The bus then started forward with a lurch, and we were on our way to school.

School went well. First class I went to, as always, was math. After struggling through quadratic functions for an hour, it was on to science. Then it was lunch, and then it was back to school. It went on like that before the end of the day rolled around and I found myself sitting in my last class—history. I grinned. It was my favourite class.

I waited patiently as every kid went through their family genealogy report before my turn rolled around. I got to my feet and grabbed the stuff I'd need for my "presentation". I walked quickly to the front of the class, and positioned myself behind the table. I carefully set my items down and smiled at the class.

"Hi, everyone," I said cheerfully. "My genealogy report is about my great-great grandfather, Jonathan Knight. He was one of many men to brave the Arctic Shelf under the leadership of Captain Archibald Witwicky." My heart fluttered uneasily at the blank stares I was receiving from most of the class. Huh, maybe Mom was right: American kids were different than Canadian kids. Or maybe they weren't. I had just grown up in a different environment then they had. I _had_ been homeschooled before I came to stay with my grandmother.

Taking a deep breath, I continued. "Anyway, being Captain Witwicky's first mate, he helped keep order on the ship as they sailed from England to the Arctic Shelf. Uh…after rescuing Captain Witwicky with help from the crew when he fell through the ice, they sailed back to England. When they got back, they went their separate ways and Jonathan Knight became a famous scientist." I stopped and held up a news article about his scientific finds, among them a type of gem that was a strange indigo blue (and according to the article, it also glowed in the dark). "But because of being a scientist, he tampered with several chemicals that cut his life short at the age of fifty." I held up an ancient microscope. "This is the microscope that he used when he conducting his experiments and studies." With a wary smile, I said, "That is all, thank you."

"Interesting report, Ms. Knight. Please sit down," the teacher, Mr. McPhee, said. I went and sat down at my desk with my things as he said, "Okay, Mr. Witwicky, you're up!"

I watched as the boy I had stopped the bus for stood up with his props and made his way to the front. So this was Sam Witwicky? Interesting.

Once Sam's stuff was on the table, he began. Though, I was amused at how he just dumped the stuff he needed out of his backpack and onto the table. "Sorry, I've got a lot of stuff," Sam apologised. "Okay…" he said before he put his backpack down on the floor behind him. "For my family ge—" he was abruptly cut off when an elastic band flew out of nowhere and slapped him on the cheek. The class laughed at how he flinched. I sat there and crossed my arms, not happy at how the class laughed at him. For crying out loud, let the boy start his report!

Mr. McPhee stood up, not looking pleased. "Who…who did that?" he demanded.

When no one stood up and confessed, Mr. McPhee pointed and said, "People, responsibility." And then he sat down.

Sam looked at the teacher, who gave him the signal to continue. "Okay," Sam said, turning to look back at the class. "So, for my family genealogy report, I decided to do it on my great-great grandfather, who was a famous man, Captain Archibald Witwicky." I froze, and my eyes widened slightly. What? "Very famous explorer. In fact, he was one of the first to explore the Arctic Circle." He held up an old map of the Arctic. My heart was beating a little faster because of the fact that my great-great grandfather was his great-great grandfather's first mate. "Which is a big deal."

"In 1897," he continued, "he took forty-one brave sailors into the Arctic Shelf." I could almost imagine the ship and the sailors hard at work. They were probably very cold. "So that's the story, right?" Sam pointed at the objects he had on the table in front of him. "Here are some of the instruments used by nineteenth century sea-men." There was more laughter, but Mr. McPhee held up a sign that said 'QUIET!' "Here's the quadrant—which is for eighty bucks. It is all for sale, by the way," he said, motioning to the stuff on the table. "Like the sextant, here," he held up said instrument. There was some more laughter, but Mr. McPhee held the sign up again, silencing the class. "Fifty dollars for this," he said after a small pause. "A bargain. These are pretty cool." He looked down and then held up a pair of old glasses so the whole class could see them. "These are my great-great grandfather's glasses, I quite haven't got them appraised yet, but they've seen many cool things."

"Are you going to sell me his liver?" Mr. McPhee asked sarcastically. "Mr. Witwicky, this isn't 'Show and Sell', this is the eleventh grade. I don't think your grandfather would be particularly proud of what you're doing."

"I know. I'm sorry," Sam said. "I just—this is going towards my car fund." He gestured to the class. "You can tell your folks that this is on eBay. I take PayPal, cold, hard cash works too. And the compass makes a-a great gift for Columbus Day—"

"Sam!" the teacher warned.

"Sorry!" Sam said as he glanced back at the teacher. Then he continued on with his report. "Unfortunately, the genius that he was, not long after going blind and crazy in a psycho ward, drawing these strange symbols" he traced the symbols on the papers he was now holding up "and babbling on about some, uh…giant ice man that he thought that he had discovered—" the bell interrupted him, signalling the end of the class.

"Okay, there might be a pop quiz tomorrow, might not be," the teacher exclaimed at the students rushed out of the room. "Sleep in fear tonight."

I watched as Sam tried to sell his props to the teenagers filing out of the room. None of them even paid any attention to him. I stayed in the classroom, because I wanted to talk to Sam before he ran away. Was it coincidence that our ancestors knew each other?

Sam went and stood before the teacher's desk, trying not to look too uneasy it seemed. "Pretty good, right?" he asked Mr. McPhee with a smile on his face.

"Uh…I would say a solid B-minus," Mr. McPhee said.

Sam's happy demeanor instantly drooped. I quirked an eyebrow.

"A B-minus?" Sam repeated in disbelief.

"You were hawking your grandfather's crap in my classroom!" Mr. McPhee exclaimed.

Sam pointed back at the classroom. "Look, can't—look, can you do me a favour? Can you look out the window for a sec? Can you see my father?" With a groan, Mr. McPhee looked out the window. "He's the guy in the green car. Okay? I want to tell you about a dream, a boy's dream. And a man's promise to that boy. He looked him in the eye and said, 'Son, I'm gonna buy you a car, but I want you to bring me two thousand dollars and three A's.' 'Kay? I've got the two thousand and two A's, okay?" It looked like Sam was going to go into rant mode. "Here's the dream" he held up his hands, holding them together "Your B-minus? Pfft" he made an explosion gesture with his hands "dream gone! Caput!"

After a deep breath, I realized he wasn't done yet. "Sir, let me ask you…what would Jesus do?"

I couldn't help but snort at that. Clever, Sam, very clever.

Mr. McPhee sighed with a roll of his eyes. "Fine, fine! A-minus."

We both watched as Mr. McPhee wrote it down on Sam's report. Sam cheered and ran from the room, backpack and report in hand. I smiled before I stepped forward. "What about me, Mr. McPhee?" I asked.

"You got an A-minus as well, Ms. Knight. Next time, though, I hope you'll try to be at least a bit more creative. I don't need two students doing nearly the same report again," he said.

Mentally, I rolled my eyes. They hadn't been the same. Our great-great grandfather's just-so-happened to work together, and we had no idea ahead of time. But I didn't voice this as he handed me my marked report.

Quickly, I ran from the room, and ran to catch up with Sam. I had to ask him that question. I came across him throwing things into his locker. I watched as his slammed the locker door shut before I stopped him. "Sam…?"

He looked at me. "Yeah?"

"I had no idea that our great-great grandfathers worked together, I'm sorry if I caused you to lose some marks," I apologised.

He grinned. "No problem, uh…"

"Ashley."

"Right! No problem, Ashley," he said. "It's cool, though, that the Witwickys and the Knights worked together in the past."

I nodded. "Yeah…cool…" I shuffled my feet. "I heard that you've earned a car, are you getting it today?"

He nodded.

I smiled. "I'm getting one as well. As soon as I get home. I'll leave you alone now, so you can go get your car…" I turned and walked around him. But then my phone rang. I stopped and answered it. "Hello?"

"_Ashley!_" my mother's voice wailed.

"Mom!" I was alarmed. "Mom, what's wrong?!"

"It's your father!" Mom sobbed. "The Canadian military just called. Your father is missing in Qatar!"

"What?!"

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**Fantastic ending, I know *sarcasm* Um, so I wanna take time and be careful with the _"Transformers"_ third of this story. I don't want to mess this up. But see you next time! Please R&R! XD**


	2. Sam-Induced Chaos

**Here's another chapter. I know I said there was going to not be another update for a while, but I was tempted to write another one because of all the reviews I got! Thanks guys! You all deserve a hug.**

**Thanks**_ SJSGirl, Tai Prime, Taboo22, Guest, XxShadowfangxX, and VioletDawn00_** for reviewing! :D You're the best guys!**

**(I had the weirdest dream last night. Okay, so it started with Steve McGarrett from the show **_**Hawaii Five-0**_** interrogating a criminal. But then the criminal suddenly transformed into The Fallen and they had to evacuate the facility so The Fallen wouldn't kill anyone. Later, Steve finds out that it's a type of technology that made the criminal turn into one of the most dangerous Cybertronians of all time. So Steve tracked down the guy who made the tech, and demanded that he make him into a Cybertronian too so that he could combat the Fallen. And guess who Steve turned into? Optimus Prime. -.-' I know… Anyway, I woke up before they could fight. That would have made just one epic crossover! But it was just a dream.)**

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2 – **Sam-Induced Chaos** – 2

**(approx. 4,268 words)**

After I made it home from school, I sat down on the couch in the living room and stared out listlessly into space. My backpack sat on the floor near my feet and the TV was left turned off. All I could think about was my father. He was missing. Had he been kidnapped? Who kidnapped him? Was it…Al Qaeda?

I heard Grandma walk into the room before she came over and sat down beside me. She wrapped an arm around me, giving me comfort. "It's alright, dear," my grandmother soothed. "Your father will be alright."

At that statement, I wanted to tell her that most people who went missing eventually turned up dead. I had little to no hope of ever seeing my father again, and I knew my grandmother could see it in my eyes. Because after gazing into my eyes with a compassionate look on her face, she drew me into a hug. For several minutes, I leaned against my grandmother, but I didn't cry. I had learned early that crying made you look weak—since none of the superheroes I admired cried when they got hurt or were worried. They held it all in, so I held it all in.

So I didn't cry while I rested in Grandma's arms.

"You know," my grandmother said eventually. "I remember saying something about looking at cars this afternoon. I know of a used car dealership that's open. If we hurry, we can go look at some cars before the dealership closes, and then on the way back, we can get dinner out."

I nodded and sat up. Quickly, we got ready, and as soon as we were wearing shoes again (I had chosen to wear my favourite pink converse), we were out the door. Grandma had called a taxi, and by the time we were down on the sidewalk, it was there, waiting for us. We got in, and Grandma told the driver to drive us to a used car dealership that sat on a lot on the corner of Baker's Drive and 3rd street. The drive was short, but the driver was a real chatterbox and drove so horribly that, if he had been Canadian, he could have been nominated for _Canada's Worst Driver_.

But humor really wasn't on the forefront of my mind. I just blinked and rested my head against the glass.

We reached the dealership in one piece, and I was more than happy to get out of the taxi as soon as it stopped.

Grandma and I walked into the dealership together, and as soon as we were passed the gate, I began to look around. To my slight satisfaction, most of the cars looked not too bad. But I was looking for a fixer-upper, so I could make it my _own_ car. Then I would get my uncle to give it a new coat of paint. He fixed up cars as a side profession.

As Grandma talked to the car salesman, I walked down the rows of cars and trucks before I came across a Chevy Silverado GMT800. It looked like one of the very first models of the first generation. That meant that it was at least ten years old. It was white, but with weird red and green stripes. It kinda reminded me of Christmas lights on snow. If anything, this would be the truck I'd buy, I realized. I glanced up at the price on the windshield, and slightly wilted. '$5000' was painted proudly on the windshield in bright green paint. Grandma wouldn't pay that price…would she?

I called my grandmother and the salesman over before I climbed into the driver's seat of the Silverado. I sank into the light grey leather seats a little before I shut the driver's door. With a small smile of happiness, I ran my hands over the steering wheel before I caught sight of something. In the middle of the light grey, padded wheel was a strange symbol. It wasn't the Chevy insignia; it was a strange robotic face. I rubbed my hand over the symbol, and felt how the symbol stuck out from the fabric on the steering wheel. The symbol was made from metal, not plastic.

I could hear Grandma and the salesman talking about the truck. It sounded like the salesman wasn't going to lower the price of the truck, so I looked around the cabin of the truck, taking it in, knowing that I was never going to see it again if Grandma didn't buy it. There was an air freshener hanging from the rear-view mirror that looked like a microscope. I smiled. Whoever owned this truck before must have either been a scientist or a science teacher.

Well…I shouldn't have worried. Grandma bought me the truck because of 'my missing father'. Yeah. That made me remember my father's not with me, but somewhere else, alone. I was going to be on a major rollercoaster ride for a few weeks before I'd be able to get over this…

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Later, I was sitting on the front porch, staring at my new truck when a rusty yellow 1970-ish Camaro with black racing stripes pulled up in front of the house. It lurched to a stop and the last person I expected to turn up stepped out of the driver's side and stood up. Sam grinned at me, as he walked up the narrow walking path and up to where I was sitting. I cocked an eyebrow and straightened my posture. "Sam?" I said. "What are you doing here?"

His smile faltered a bit. "Well…" he started. "I overheard the conversation you had with your mother—you _really_ need to turn off your speaker-phone, by the way—and I can't help but feel sorry for the disappearance of your…Dad. I would…like to become your friend…and stuff…"

I smiled softly as I stood up. "Thanks, Sam." I waited for a few seconds to see if he was going to say anything more. "Was there anything else you wanted to tell me?"

He quickly nodded. "Yeah, uh, Ash—is it okay if I call you Ash?" at my nod, he continued. "Well, most of the school is going to the lake in order to celebrate the end of the school year. I was going to ask if my friend Miles wanted to come with me, and I did, but he declined. And I don't want to go alone, since I'm…looking to talk to a girl named Mikaela Banes."

I crossed my arms. "Samuel Witwicky, are you asking a girl you barely know for relationship advice?"

Sam winced. "N-no! I just want backup. Girls can talk to girls, right? A-and T-Trent will be there…"

I put a comforting hand on his shoulder, which instantly stopped his stuttering. "Sam," I said calmly. "In order to face your fears, you have to do it alone. Sure, I'll go to the lake with you, but the only support I'll give you is if Trent starts to verbally beat you up. You need to stand up to him." I had heard about Sam's problems with Trent. Trent was a jock, and naturally, jocks thought they were more superior than everyone else, even though they were not as intelligent. Their future was solely based on getting onto a major sports team where their winnings would win them big bucks.

Sam nodded. "I-I get that…" he said.

"Good," I said with a nod as I removed my hand from his shoulder. "I'll go change my clothes. Do you mind if I take my truck and not sit in the car with you? I have a feeling that if you want to talk to this girl, something might happen and you might want to drive her home. And if you drive her home" I poked him in the chest "you won't want me" I poked him again "to be in the car with you two. Which is fine by me."

Sam looked surprised at what I had said. "Have you ever thought of becoming a psychiatrist?"

I grinned. "No," I chuckled before I dashed inside. I stopped in the kitchen to ask my grandmother if I was allowed to go to the lake with Sam, and when she said yes, I dashed up to my room. Quickly, I swapped my t-shirt, jeans, and socks for a grey shirt with the sleeves ripped off, jean shorts that were cut off at the knee, and a pair of sandals. After putting my short hair in a ponytail, I grabbed my keys and jogged downstairs. I walked outside and waved to Sam before I hopped in my truck. After I backed out of the driveway, I followed Sam to the lake.

* * *

The sun was hot. Kris didn't think that any of the days he had spent being a scout down in New Zealand would have prepared him for this climate. All around him, there was nothing but sand and a few rocky mountains. The sun was glaring into his eyes, not allowing him to relax his face from squinting look he now wore. He wasn't able to keep anything but his wallet because of their quick escape from the base, so he had to leave his Harley-Davidson safety sunglasses behind.

The Army Rangers around him walked quickly across the sand. The boy he had carried through the night was now jogging beside him, looking downcast. What had happened back at the base had surely scarred him for life.

Quickly, they scrambled between some rocks. Lennox made sure that the boy would not fall as they ran over the treacherous terrain. They then stepped onto grassy terrain as they wandered aimlessly though the wilderness. They eventually came across more sand, and then a tank. Several of the Rangers stood on it in order to get more of a view of the surrounding area. Epps looked into the binoculars that he had used to look at the robot. Kris looked at him as the African-American stated how he had never seen technology that the helicopter-robot possessed.

"Thermo shows this weird aura around the exoskeleton, like it's cloaked by some invisible force-field," Epps explained before he handed the device to Lennox.

"That's impossible!" Donnelly exclaimed. "There's no such thing as force-fields, except for in comic books and stuff, right?"

"I dunno," Lennox said before he looked into the device.

"My mama, she had the gift, you know?" Fig said. Kris noticed he was fingering a cross. "She saw things. I got that gene too, and um…that thing that attacked us? I got the feeling that it ain't over." Lennox lowered the device from his face and looked at Fig.

"How about you use those magic-voodoo powers and get us the heck out of here, huh?" Donnelly said sarcastically.

Kris shifted uneasily. The hair on the back of his neck rose, causing him to glance over his shoulder nervously. But there was nothing there.

"When I took that picture," Epps said somberly, allowing Kris to figure out that the device was some sort of camera. "…I think it saw me." Lennox looked at him with a look in his eyes Kris couldn't decipher. "It looked right at me."

Everyone looked at Epps with a freaked out look on their faces. Lennox broke the silence that tried to form by saying, "Alright, we need to get this back to the Pentagon right away. They gotta know what we're dealing with here."

"The radio's fried," Epps said. "I've got no communication with aerial."

"Will a cell phone work?" Kris asked.

"Security confiscated it, remember?"

"Oh."

"Mahfouz, how far away do you live from here?" Lennox asked the boy.

The boy pointed towards the mountains. "Not far, just up that mountain," he explained.

"Good, now do you have a phone?" he asked.

"Yes," Mahfouz confirmed.

With that, a tiny bit of relief washed through Kris as he felt his skin suddenly start to bake.

"Alright, let's hit it!" Lennox announced.

* * *

I followed Sam closely as we drove down to the beach. I felt slightly nervous, since I was considered an outsider. I never conversed in any of the cliques that roamed around school, so it wasn't likely that I would be able to do anything there other than to stick my toes in the water.

Sam came to a stop in front of a blue supercharged truck, so I pulled in behind him. I sat in the truck for a few seconds, my heart fluttering uncomfortably, as I watched Sam get out of his Camaro. "Okay," I told myself quietly. "I'm gonna just act like Sam's shadow. I'm not gonna say anything unless Sam wants me to respond—oh heck! Why did I let Sam rope me into this? I barely know him, yet I allow him to make me feel so _uncomfortable_!" I slammed my right fist down onto my lap. The truck rocked slightly, but from the force from my movement or something else, I couldn't tell.

Taking deep breaths, I blocked the tears that tried to surface and got out of the truck. Taking the keys, I shut the door and locked it. There were so many teenagers here; I didn't want one stealing my truck behind my back, even if it wasn't the newest model of Silverado.

I stuffed the keys into my pocket as I walked up to stand beside Sam as he approached what looked to be Trent and a beautiful girl who had ice-blue eyes that nearly glowed in the setting sun.

"Hey, bro, that's a nice car you've got there," Trent suddenly called out to Sam. I cocked an eyebrow, some of my spunk surfacing through my uneasiness. Why was he commenting on Sam's car? Was it so that he could smash Sam's dignity into the ground? "Hey." Sam looked warily at Trent as he came to a stop in front of him. "So what are you guys doing here?" Trent said with heavily concealed annoyance. "I thought I recognised you, you tried out for the football team last year, right?" Sam visibly flinched, obviously remembering something like being run over by a herd of jocks during that try-out.

"Oh no, no, no," Sam said, shaking his head. "No—that—no. That was not like a…real try-out. I was researching a book I was writing."

"Oh, really?" Trent was trying to look interested. Weird guy. "What's it about?" I had a feeling that Trent was going to try and use that little bit of information in order to make Sam feel bad. "Sucking at sports?" and there was the put-down I was looking for.

But Sam merely laughed. "No, it's about the link between brain-damage and football. No it's a good book, your friends will love it, you know. It's got mazes in it, you know, little colouring areas/sections, pop-up pictures, it's a lot of fun." I beamed at Sam. He did a good job standing up for himself.

"That's funny," Trent said darkly. He stepped towards Sam, obviously to hurt him, but the girl with the ice-blue eyes stepped in front of Trent and put both of her hands on his chest.

"Okay, okay," she said softly. "You know what? Stop." It seemed to do the trick, and the jock backed off.

Trent and his cronies, including the girl moved away as Trent told them of a party somewhere else. Relief flowed through me as we walked back to Sam's car. I leaned against the side of the car as Sam sat down on the edge of the hood. I crossed my arms as we watched Trent and the girl talk near the door of the truck. "You did a good job, Sam," I told him. After a few seconds of silence, I asked, "Who's the girl?"

"That was Mikaela. Mikaela Banes," he said.

"Oh, so were you standing up to Trent so that you could impress her?"

I saw his head bob slightly in a nod. I watched as Mikaela seemed to get upset with Trent before she walked away from him. I guess she clued in Trent was a jerk and dumped him.

I heard the radio of his car suddenly crank on and a mellow song started to flow from the speakers. _"Who's gonna drive you home? Who's gonna come around?"_

"Hmm?" I hummed. How had that…happened?

"I'm gonna drive her home," Sam suddenly announced.

"Oh," I said, realizing that my previous assumption had been true. "Alright then. Have a nice trip, Sam." I smiled as I walked back to my truck.

"Bye, Ash," I heard Sam call before I climbed in.

Sitting down comfortably, I pulled out from behind Sam's car and drove away. I was silent as I maneuvered my car onto the road. My mind was on Sam and Mikaela. Did Sam obviously expect Mikaela to love him? Would Mikaela ever look at a boy like Sam twice? I was glad Sam might have a chance with her. I had never been in a relationship before…

I drove home and pulled the truck into the driveway. After I put it in park, I turned it off and got out. I locked the truck before I closed the door and made my way inside. As soon as the front door was closed behind me, though, I remembered my father. He was still missing. The tears threatened to come again, but I savagely slammed them away again. I couldn't afford to cry, even though no one would see it.

Kicking off my sandals, I walked towards the stairs that would lead me up to my room. But my grandmother stopped me. "Honey? You're home from the lake soon. Did something go wrong?" I turned to see my grandmother standing in the entryway that lead into the kitchen.

I looked down. "Nothing happened, Grandma. Sam got to talk to the girl he wanted to talk to, though, which is good," I told her.

"He seems like a nice boy," Grandma said. "He'll make a good friend."

I nodded. "He overheard the news of my father's disappearance…he said he was sorry for it, though it wasn't his fault."

"That's because he's one of the few boys left in the world that still care about what a girl feels."

I nodded again. "I'm gonna…go upstairs and stew for a while…okay?"

At her nod, I turned and disappeared upstairs. Once I was in my room, I closed the door behind me and sat down at its base. I brought my knees up to my chin and wrapped my arms around them. Where was my father? Was he okay? Was he captured by some terrorists who wanted information? Did he manage to slip away?

Thoughts raced through my head as my imagination conjured what could have happened to my father. My imagination made me see him running past tanks as he dodged bullets, then an explosion throwing him several feet before he crashed into the ground and was still. I didn't want to think about it, but it ended up plaguing me all night. At twelve, I still couldn't sleep, so I went downstairs and heated up some leftover mac 'n cheese. Once it was hot, I grabbed a spoon and headed back up to my room.

I sat down on my bed and turned on the TV, hoping the familiar taste of the cheese-coated pasta with a welcome TV show would help chase away the bad thoughts. And as I began to watch an episode of _Murdoch Mysteries_, it slowly went away.

But then I was disturbed by the beep of an instant message from my laptop.

I placed my now-empty bowl on my side table before I picked up my laptop from where it had been resting at the foot of my bed. The MSN window was up, showing I had an IM from someone called BlackOut.

**BlackOut: I heard you've been mourning about your missing father.**

I quickly typed out my own message, slightly creeped out by this unknown messenger.

**KnightGirl222: Who is this? I don't know you.**

**BlackOut: Ah, but I know your father.**

I paused, blinking. He knew my father? My father knew a lot of people since he was a social butterfly. But what if this person was someone Dad didn't want me to talk to?

**KnightGirl222: In what way do you know my father? Former Fracker buddy?**

**BlackOut: No. I met your father at the SOCCENT base. He's a good man.**

Excitement rose within me. If this guy was okay, then maybe my father was as well!

**KnightGirl222: The SOCCENT base was attacked. How did you make it out? Did my dad make it out?**

**BlackOut: Oh, he got out alright. I watched him run.**

I went to reply to that, but my cell phone interrupted me. Quickly, I typed that I had to go before I exited out of the MSN instant messenger and answered the phone. "Hello?"

"Ashley! My car is being _stolen_!" Sam suddenly screamed into my ear.

My thoughts were thrown for a loop. "What?!" I exclaimed. "What do you mean it's being stolen?"

"I'm not in the car! I'm not in the car! Help me chase it down!" and with that, he hung up. I sighed and rolled my eyes. Well, I couldn't just leave him hanging there.

So I got off the bed and swapped my pajamas for some jeans and a t-shirt. Then I ran quietly downstairs, and shoved my feet into a pair of sneakers. Once outside, I rushed over to my bike and got on it just as I saw Sam's car drive passed. But I noticed something. Unless the driver is ducking down, there was no one driving the thing. But I shook my head and biked out onto the road as Sam raced by. He was screaming into his phone something about his father being the head of the 'Neighborhood Watch'.

We chased the car to the edge of town where it drove into an area filled with warehouses. By the time we reached there, we had to ditch our bikes and run over a train that got in our way. After that, we caught sight of something that made me weak at the knees. Something, a robot, stood up. "S-Sam?" I squeaked shakily as I took in the robotic figure.

Sam quickly hushed me as we continued to stare at the robot for a few more seconds. A light came from the robot's chest as it shone it up into the cloudy sky. "S-Sam…this is private property. W-we shouldn't be here. Y-you called the police, remember? They'll come here, see us, and arrest us because we don't own this property."

Sam didn't respond to that. "You know what, Sam," I said, slapping him in the shoulder. "I'd rather be with Mr. Roboto over there, then with you. I don't wanna be arrested." Sam continued to ignore me in his fear before we ducked down as a light from the robot was shone our way. He started videotaping himself with his phone, saying his farewells to his mom and dad and dog. I looked back at the light and shuttered when I saw the same robotic face that was on the steering wheel of my truck being displayed on a cloud like the Batman symbol with the help of the robot's light.

Once Sam was done with his recording, he closed his phone and stuffed it in his pocket. He then grabbed my hand as we began to tiptoe away. I held my breath, not daring to say anything, but I ended up letting out a strangled whine when I caught sight of two guard dogs off to the side and chained to a brick wall. They perked up when they caught sight of Sam and I. Sam looked over at them and screamed. We began to run, and Sam let go of me so that we could both run faster.

We continued running when the chains the dogs were attached to broke free from the brick wall, and I literally leaped over another brick wall that was in our way like I was performing 400m hurtles during the Olympics. When I landed, I stumbled down a pile of sawdust with Sam before we ran into a warehouse. "Good dogs! Good dogs!" Sam yelled, his voice squeaking as we dashed into some sort of silo. We jumped onto a few barrels and Sam began to perform some sort of jig in order to keep the dogs from biting at his ankles.

But then his car came out of nowhere and chased the dogs off. I watched, breathless, as Sam cried, "Please don't kill me, I'm sorry!" he then tossed his keys at the car. "Here, take the keys! I don't want them!" He then jumped off of the barrels. I didn't hesitate to follow.

We ran out of the silo and straight out in front of a police cruiser. "Good, you're here!" Sam said. "Listen, listen…"

"Let me see your hands!" and officer said as soon as he was out of the car. "Let me see your hands!"

"No! No!" Sam panicked. "It's not us! The guys inside!" we held up our hands.

"Shut up!" the officer commanded. "Walk towards the car with your hands behind your head." After we walked towards the car, he said, "Put your head on the hood."

I winced as we lowered our heads down on the hood. This was not going to be good. This would be on my record. What will my family say?


	3. More Chaos in the Form of Freaking Out

**This chapter seemed to drag on and on, but no matter. :) I hope you had a very Merry Christmas, and I hope you have a Happy New Year. Sorry it took so long to update.**

**I've just realized something about Ashley Knight, the OC of this fanfiction. She's a calm individual that refuses to cry in front of other people. She is kind and thoughtful, and likes to spend most of her time thinking. She is not paranoid, but spending time with Sam might change that. And she's taken the disappearance of her father rather hard. I hope I haven't turned her into some kind of Mary-Su, that would be bad.**

**Thanks** _SJSGirl, XxShadowfangxX, Taboo22, ForgotMyName2Day, _**and**_ VioletDawn00_ **for reviewing! You guys are the best!**

**(PS. I twisted my ankle (it's almost better) so I have more time to write!)**

* * *

3 – **More Chaos in the Form of Freaking Out** – 3

**aka. Sam Witwicky**

**(approx. 4,250 words)**

* * *

We spent the night in two different cells that happened to be next to each other. I tried to get some sleep so that I would be able to answer questions coherently when the police came to interrogate us. I dozed once or twice, but the bed was so uncomfortable, that I barely got any sleep at all. By the time morning rolled around, my thoughts had abandoned me, and my eyes felt like they had been taped open. My eyeballs felt as dry as the Sahara Desert.

The "interrogation" was painful to say the least. The police officer sounded like a nutcase. He wouldn't listen to our explanations, and he thought we were on drugs. Drugs! I'd never touch the stuff! And then the officer adjusted his jacket slightly so that his gun was showing. Out of obvious nervousness, Sam and I glanced down at it. That got the officer on us about wanting to be violent. It drove me to the point that I just wanted to scream before socking the officer in the face. Sam just leaned forward after that and said, "Are _you_ on drugs?"

Once we were out, I was in a desperate need of a shower. It was not like I was like those girls in high school that need to wear gallons of makeup, but I didn't like to feel dirty. And I felt very unclean.

We stood by the curb and I watched as Sam and his father got into his father's fancy green vehicle. "C'mon, Ash, Dad's gonna give you a ride home," Sam called to me. At that, my eyes widened and I looked at Mr. Witwicky. At his nod, I relaxed and smiled slightly. I got into the back seat and put the seatbelt on. But before we could pull away, a police officer ran up to the car.

He looked at me. "Ms. Knight?" he asked.

"That's me," I said warily. "What's up?"

The officer actually looked sad. Maybe not all of the police officers at this station were retarded. "I'm sorry to inform you, Ms. Knight, but we just received word that you mother was in a horrible accident and is now in a coma," he told me.

My eyes widened and I couldn't help but stare at him. My mother, in a coma? How…how had that happened?

"I'm sorry," the officer said again before he turned and walked back into the station. I watched him go, feeling numb. First my father, now my mother? I was too far away to instantly go to her, and it was too expensive to fly all the way to Ontario…

Sam and Mr. Witwicky were looking at me with compassion. I could only stare out into space as my thoughts ran in loops, never leaving the topic of my mother and father. With one unresponsive to the world around her and the other missing, what did that make me? Did that make me an orphan? Would I be allowed to stay with my grandmother?

"Ashley…are you okay?" Sam asked my carefully. He probably realized how hard of a blow this news was.

Taking a deep breath, I nodded. "I'm fine, Sam. Mr. Witwicky," I looked at the man, "please drive me home."

He nodded and soon, we were on the road. No one spoke as Mr. Witwicky drove until he pulled up in front of my grandmother's house. I thanked them before I walked into the house. As soon as my shoes were off, though, Grandma was there. She hugged me tightly. "Oh, honey, I was so worried!" she exclaimed.

I sighed. "The police officers were stupid," I said. "I'd like to have a shower now, though. I feel very dirty. And then, I want to go for a drive—alone. This day…has turned out to be not that nice…" Grandma nodded in understanding before she stepped out of the way. I gave her a thankful smile—that showed her how tired I was—before I dashed upstairs. I quickly stopped in my bedroom in order to gather a black pair of jeans, a black t-shirt and some clean undergarments, before I dashed into the bathroom.

After coming out, all clean and dry, I grabbed my keys and my purse before I jogged downstairs. Grandma stopped me long enough in order to give me something good to eat since I hadn't been able to eat anything yet today. When she put the peanut butter and Nutella sandwich in my hands along with a bottle of water, I smiled thankfully before I walked outside. I walked over to my truck, unlocking it as I approached it, and got in. I inserted the keys into the ignition, and started the truck up. I backed it out of the driveway, and then drove down the road as I began to eat my brunch—since it was almost lunch.

I continued to drive out into the middle of nowhere. I only stopped the truck when I reached the edge of a river. I put it in park and set the parking brake before I got out and shut the door behind me. I walked over to the edge of the river and sat down on the riverbank. A sigh escaped me as I drew my legs up to my chin and wrapped my arms around them. My mother was in a coma, meaning that she was basically dead to the world. In a year or so, if she hadn't woken up, I would, along with a bunch of close family members, would have to choose to either 'pull the plug' or not.

I didn't want my mother dead. I wanted her to see my wedding; I wanted her to see my children.

Why did life have to be so mean sometimes?

Tears slowly began to drip from my eyes as I watched the water in the river rush by. Thoughts floated around in my head, making me want to sob. For a second, I felt like a five-year-old again who wanted her mommy.

I heard something creak behind me, and out of curiosity, I looked over my shoulder and back at my truck. It had rocked slightly to the right. I cocked an eyebrow at that, wondering what had caused that. _Maybe it's just the riverbank. I might have parked it too close to the edge. I better go move it closer to the road._ I got to my feet and walked over to the truck. When I got the driver's side, I stopped and rested my hand on the door handle. I lowered my head slightly and closed my eyes and sighed. _My family is shattered and I am alone. I've got a truck, myself, and one friend named Sam._

At least I had a friend.

Suddenly, the radio buzzed before the familiar strains of a song I used to listen to when I was younger flowed from the speakers. _"Run to me whenever you're lonely (to love me), run to me if you need a shoulder…__now and then, you need someone older, so darling… you run to me…"_

The Bee Gees. Good memories.

But…how had the radio turned on by itself? Was it broken like the one in Sam's Camaro? I'd have to get the mechanic look at that when I had to take in my truck for some repairs…since Dad was missing.

My phone then decided to vibrate. With another sigh, I took it out of my pocket and turned it on to see why it buzzed. It turned out to be a text. From BlackOut.

My heart seemed to stop. How had he gotten my phone number?

**BlackOut: I can see you.**

* * *

They were walking on the top of another dune. Kris had lost count of how many dunes they had walked over. He felt dehydrated, tired, and his skin had been baking in the sun for so long that it was beet red and was starting to feel like leather. He didn't like the feeling. It was like he was going to develop heat exhaustion before they got to any sign of civilization.

Up ahead, though, there was some sort of tower. He looked up at it, taking in its slightly rusted structure, as they came to a stop at its base. There was an old, weathered, red metal sign stuck to a telephone pole behind it. '440 Volts' it said with a skull and crossbones between two other different squiggles—which was writing in two other languages.

It seemed, to Kris, that this some sort of power line. The tower was connected to it.

"Let's hope this telephone line works," Lennox said as Epps went over to a conveniently placed barrel of water and doused his head using a shallow pot to scoop some water and poor it over himself. Kris rushed over to the barrel and mirrored Epps once the African-American had given up the pot. The cool-ish water felt like a blessing as it rushed over his head and face. Kris grinned. Maybe they would be able to have a break for a little while before they had to get going again…

But of course, that was just wishful thinking, since sand suddenly erupted behind the tower. The tower was then hit by something and Lennox shouted. Kris looked up at it was shocked blue and brown eyes before he dashed away from it. "Heads up!" Kris cried.

"Whoa!" Epps yelled as the tower groaned until it crashed into the ground, the very top of it landing only a few feet behind Donnelly.

Donnelly flinched slightly and turned around. "What the heck was that?" Donnelly asked, clearly clueless.

Fig ended up answering, but it was in Spanish, so they didn't know what he said.

"English, dude," Donnelly said before turning back around. "English."

The Rangers and Kris looked around warily. Kris could only see miles upon miles of sand around him even though the hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end. Something was watching them, he knew it. It was like they were a bunch of mice waiting for a cat to pounce.

And then he saw it. It stuck up out of the sand like one of those Floor Master-whatsits from the Zelda game his daughter used to play when she was younger. It was made of metal and had a sharp tip. It looked like a scorpion tail. And it was sticking up out of the sand right behind Lennox.

"_Behind you, Lennox_!" Kris bellowed just before Epps noticed it.

"WHOA!" Epps screamed before he began shooting at it.

Lennox whirled around as gunshots flew and began to jump from one foot to the next as he tried to avoid the metal scorpion that had suddenly appeared where he had been standing. The scorpion charged and raced across the top of the sand in front of Donnelly and one of the other men. Now all of the Rangers were shooting at it as Kris took Mahfouz and backed away from the battle a bit. Kris' heart raced as he tried to take everything in. His eyes darted from left to right as he tried to keep tabs on the metal scorpion.

Suddenly, it went quiet.

"Alright, everyone, settle!" Lennox commanded.

Kris forced himself to take deep breaths in order to keep himself calm. His eyes darted back and forth as he watched the sand, which the metal scorpion had disappeared into.

But then, with a rush, the scorpion exploded from the sand right behind Donnelly and speared him with its tail. All Donnelly could do was scream as he was flung away.

They ran down the sand dune and towards a town. Kris never knew that men from the army would every scream like they were now, but he didn't care, because he was screaming too. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end as he struggled to keep up with the others. His back ached and his legs protested, but the adrenaline drove him forward.

Kris saw Mahfouz trip and his heart wrenched when he heard him cry out, but Lennox quickly helped him to his feet as Epps, Fig, and himself dashed to get away while the others turned around to fire at the monster. Kris heard the scorpion launch itself from the sand behind him and he turned his head to look back at it. He, along with Fig and Epps, screamed. He never thought he could feel this scared as the scorpion focused on him and the other two men for a second before plunging back into the sand.

He also realized that with all the screaming he had been doing, his throat was beginning to feel sore.

All these thought rushed through his head as he ran for his life. He kept thinking of his wife and daughter. He had to get back to them.

But that didn't mean he wasn't going to stop running.

They dashed into the town, and Lennox and Mahfouz seemed to disappear into it. As Kris skidded around a wall and hunkered down behind it, he could hear women and children screaming as they ran into their homes. Kris drew in air as he tried to calm his rapidly beating heart. He didn't know how much more he could take of this. He was past his prime; he wasn't as young as the soldiers around him. He hadn't run like that for the last ten years. He should have been supervising men who worked an oilrig, not running for his life from something so out of this world.

The forty-year-old peeked around the wall he had hidden behind and watched as the metal scorpion seemed to take down walls, pillars, and humans with ease.

"FIRE!" one of the Army Rangers called before several bullets were shot at their advisory. Kris couldn't take his eyes off of the machine as the bullets flew and laser-fire was returned. He could hear Lennox shouting off in the distance, but it seemed muffled to him. He could only watch as the metal being killed, maimed, and destroyed. He ducked as something exploded behind him.

But then, jets came out of nowhere and began to fire at the robot Kris watched as the scorpion was hit by several missiles through a haze.

And then…it was over.

Kris blinked and got to his feet. He stumbled forward as the scorpion slithered into the sand, leaving its tail behind. The Rangers grouped together on the north side of the town, and Kris walked over to him. He noted that he was still dressed in his jeans and a t-shirt, but he must have lost his loafers in the sand when he was running from the scorpion. His shirt was soaked with layers of sweat and he was caked with sand and grime.

He stumbled again as his strength seemed to suddenly drain from him. The New Zealander collapsed next to the Rangers and was unconscious instantly, free from the terrors he had experienced that day.

* * *

I panicked. I looked wildly around, knowing I had some kind of stalker. I quickly typed a text back hoping to figure out where he was so that I might be able to get away from him.

**KnightGirl222: Where are you?**

I quickly got a reply back.

**BlackOut: I'm not on land and I'm not under it. But you can hear my blades, even before you can see me.**

I shivered and whirled around. I looked around wildly until I pieced together the words the creep had texted me. I looked up and walked forward. He was in a helicopter.

The helicopter rose up from behind a hill. It was dark grey, almost black, and of military grade. Its helicopter blades spun quickly as it flew towards me. The wind created from its blades pushed against me, and I felt my feet behind to slip. I couldn't help but cry out as I was pushed off my feet and was sent reeling into the river.

I was submerged. I opened my eyes to see that the river was deep. The current was strong as it pulled me past boulders and reeds. I surfaced and coughed the water I had accidentally inhaled out of my lungs. I struggled to keep my head above the water, but the wind caused by the helicopter blades forced me back under. I tumbled head over heels farther downstream.

Managing to right myself, I forced my head above water again and managed to cry out for help before I went under. But my strength was waning and I hadn't managed to take a deep breath before I was submerged again. I was going to drown; I was going to drown…

Suddenly, I was above water for another split-second, allowing me to draw in some more air. I opened my eyes and looked up at the helicopter before I was under water again. Even as I continued to roll head over heel through the water, I didn't miss how the helicopter took off as soon as I stopped struggling. I had stopped struggling because I was out of energy. I was tired—no, _exhausted_. I had never been a good swimmer to begin with, and I had a feeling that you would have to be an Olympic swimmer in order to get out of a situation like this.

I closed my eyes, knowing that I wasn't going to make it out of this one. My lungs screamed for oxygen as the last bits of air escaped from my mouth. I went totally limp as I let the river take me. Dad was gone and Mom was in a coma, so what was there left for me? Grandma?

Something inside me questioned my reason for giving up. _Your grandmother would be alone once again. Do you want her to grieve over your death? You'd be the only one to die. You mother is merely trapped in her sleep, and your father is only missing._

I guess that was right. I shouldn't give up. But before I could make a move to resurface again, I felt something curl around me and lift me from the water.

As soon as the water was clear from my face, I took a deep breath and began to cough up the water that had begun to seep into my lungs. When I opened my eyes, my sight was hazy, but I saw someone standing over me with practically glowing blue eyes before they disappeared.

When my sight cleared, I sat up. I stopped to allow my head to "swim" before I climbed to my feet. With a disgruntled expression, I looked down at my clothing and saw that I was soaked to the bone and figured that my sneakers had to at least be holding some water. But that didn't stop me from climbing into my truck.

Turning it on, I wondered about the person who saved me, but since I didn't know when I'd be able to thank them, I drove home with what had just happened swirling around in my head.

* * *

The rest of the day came and went as soon as I had a shower and had changed my clothes. The next day, after my grandmother went out to spend the day with friends, I sat down on the couch in the living room and went to turn on the TV. But then the phone rang. I answered it and said, "Hello?"

"Ash! Ashley!" came the sound of a very panicked Sam.

"Sam? How did you get my grandmother's phone number?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Listen, Ashley, _listen_," Sam said, his breath coming in short bursts, showing me how much he was panicking. "My…my car, it was stolen, remember?"

"Yeah? I was there, and we both had to go through the cops after that because they thought we were the bad guys. Why are you telling me this?"

"Satan's Camaro is in my yard! It's _stalking_ me!" he squeaked.

I sighed. "Sam, Sam, Sam…think this through rationally. Maybe someone from school was playing a prank on you and decided to return your car this morning. There is nothing to be afraid of. It's just a car."

"Get on a bike and meet me by Burger King, okay?" and then he hung up.

I sighed again with a roll of my eyes. I didn't even have the chance to tell him that I _had no bike_. I had left it back at the warehouses when we were chasing Sam's car.

But I couldn't leave Sam hanging, so I ran outside and yanked Mom's old bike from the shed in the backyard. I then got onto it and biked out onto the sidewalk. The wheels bumped with every crack in the sidewalk I ran over, but that didn't stop me as I went charging past Sam's house. I only slowed down somewhat when I came up behind Sam's Camaro, which was driving on the sidewalk and was chasing Sam.

"STOP!" Sam screeched back at the Camaro before he crossed an empty intersection. I rolled my eyes again.

My overdramatic friend then crashed into a broken part of the sidewalk in front of the Burger King and flipped off of his bike as I came to a stop behind him, the gears of my mom's old bike screeching loudly.

"Sam?" a girl suddenly asked. I looked over at her and saw it was Mikaela Banes.

"Hi," Sam grunted as he got back to his feet.

"Are you okay, Sam?" I asked him.

"That was…that as really awesome," Mikaela commented awkwardly.

"Yeah, he's a master of acrobatics," I snorted.

"Are you okay?" Mikaela sounded concerned.

"No, I'm not okay," Sam said as he scrambled to his feet. "I think I'm losing my mind." He ran back over to his car. "I'm getting chased by my car right now." He grunted again. "I gotta go."

I tugged lightly on the short sleeves of my light-blue shirt before I took off after Sam. My brown hair, which was tied up in a high ponytail, lifted from my shoulders as I fought to keep up with the teenaged boy that was obviously having a panic attack. I had to get to him and calm him down before he could hurt himself.

I followed him out into another intersection and almost had my back tire clipped by the Camaro. I glared back at it before I returned my attention to Sam as he biked into a junkyard under an underpass. I was breathing heavily as we biked around trash and old cars. But then we stopped before a Mustang police cruiser. It slowly drove towards us, flashing its lights as the Camaro drove away. "Great, the cops," Sam told me in relief.

Narrowing my eyes at him, I scowled. "Remember the _last_ time we ran into a bunch of cops? They arrested us!" I hissed.

Sam shrugged. "If it will get Satan's Camaro away from me, then I'll risk my rep again."

I growled.

The officer was revving his cruiser's engine, and Sam took off biking towards him. I wanted to roll my eyes again, but didn't as I biked after him. Sam and I were going to have a big talk after this. I really big talk. He needed to stop freaking out, and try to become more mellow. No wonder now girls (other than me) liked him. Who'd want to be around a guy that screamed like a little girl every time he got scared?

Though, his paranoia was starting to rub off on me, or something, because there was something fishy about that Camaro.

"Officer!" Sam called. "Listen—" he was cut off when he suddenly crashed into the open driver's side door. The tires of my mother's bike screeched as I forcefully applied the brakes in order to keep myself from running Sam over. When I stopped, the officer closed his door with a mocking _click_.

"What gives?" I scowled.

Sam quickly scrambled to his feet and braced himself on the hood of the cruiser. "Thank goodness you're here! I've had the worst day ever!" Sam's voice was hoarse as he explained. "I've been…We've been followed here, on our bikes," he pointed down at where his bike had been left lying next to the cruiser. "Right? And my car," he pointed off to where we had seen it go, "is right there and its followed us here. So…so get out of the car!"

Suddenly, the engine of the cruiser revved again and it jumped forward. It knocked Sam off of his feet. I got off of my bike and rolled it off to the side before I ran forward in order to help him. But the engine revved again and the cruiser jumped forward again as Sam crawled backwards away from it. It jumped forward again, and knocked me off my feet. Sam was screaming, but I could only stare as it stopped and its headlight popped out and slid out towards us. One came and stared me in the face, surrounded by sharp prongs and another did the same with Sam.

Sam continued to make strange sounds and tried to move away from the headlight thing, but the Mustang jumped forward again. This time I screamed as well.

The headlights retracted, but then the Mustang exploded into a mass of moving parts that quickly formed a tall humanoid robot that leered down at us with four red eyes.

I screamed again.


End file.
